


those dinners and walks (are not necessarily dates)

by Imiaslavie



Category: Far Cry 4
Genre: Ajay is thinking real hard about important things, First Kiss, M/M, Post-Canon, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 04:24:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14324517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imiaslavie/pseuds/Imiaslavie
Summary: Half a time Ajay is alright with not knowing. Another half? He is pissed about being left in the dark.





	those dinners and walks (are not necessarily dates)

**Author's Note:**

> So, I haven't written a complete work in a year. Yup. A year. I had drafts and finished a 2k work that I have been working on for months (by which I mean I had 99% of it written and spend a year finishing it up haha). Then I go and watch 20 minutes of cutscenes of FC4 and voila!
> 
> Warning for me not knowing canon beyond cutscenes with Pagan, some Wiki and 6 hours of gameplay (which doesn't mean a lot 'cause the game is huge). It mostly affects the, uh, geographical aspect, I guess, but still.
> 
> Also, Wiki says Pagan is an inch taller than Ajay, but in the game, I always feel like he is looking up to us. So I headcanon Ajay being taller.

Half a time Ajay is alright with not knowing. He is perfectly fine not being aware of the exact number of casualties villages have suffered today in the South, he makes do with abridged versions of the reports underlings bring to Pagan and he doesn't bother to ask who exactly is screaming bloody murder from the cellars. 

Another half? He is _pissed_ about being left in the dark. 

Because the things that he isn't being told are — somehow, strangely — always fall in the _personal_ category. 

Like, did Pagan have enough sleep this night? Does the leg — the one that was scraped by a bullet a week ago — bother him? Is there anything else Ajay could learn to make things easier for Kyrat and its king?

Are those dinners and walks with Pagan _dates_?

Ajay really needs it spelled out for him. Well, at least whispered to him. Hinted at. Just the tiniest of the hints. 'cause Ajay is steadily going crazy and he doesn't think Kyrat would do well with his crazy. There's enough to go around already. 

Whenever Ajay tries to figure things out, he fails. He may as well try to do that chart thing on the wall, with photos and paper clipping and red strings — or maybe pink ones? — tying everything together, not that he really believes it would help him. Also, he thinks that if anyone sees it, they would refer him to a local doctor, using sweet soothing words.

Instead, he sometimes tries to build the chart thing in his head. 

There are dinners. Or breakfasts. Or lunches. Or whatever it is when you eat at four in the morning because your schedule is fucked up. Sometimes at the Pagan's meeting room, or near his office, or on that faithful balcony, but most often — at Ajay's quarters. He has that little cosy corner in the main room — with lots of colourful drapes on the walls and ornaments — that barely fits a round table and two chairs with puffy cushions. At day sun hits it at a perfect angle, right through the little oval window at the top of the opposite wall. At night they put on candles (which _aren’t_ outlawed, Ajay made sure of it the second he moved in), and light of those mixes with the colourful reflections countless crystals that hang around the place drop on the walls and their faces.

Sometimes they talk almost without stopping, only pausing to take a bite of whatever it is on their plates, Pagan gesturing wildly and laughing at the things Ajay says. Sometimes it is tense, because the shit went down and Ajay got injured and Pagan's men did close to nothing to stop the attack, so Pagan is brooding, and Ajay tries to cheer him up. He doesn't always manage to warm Pagan up before their meal ends, but he always tries. And sometimes... sometimes it is quiet, with neither of them talking, Pagan asking for a wine refill with a tipping of his glass rather than the words. Those are the nights — and always nights, such things only happen after the sun sets — that torture Ajay the most, because they’re the most wonderfully excruciating thing he has ever experienced in his life. In the soft silence between them it's so easy to realise how actually small the table is because their knees keep bumping into each other, and it's the most innocent form of contact, but it makes Ajay's body burn. Candle flames play in Pagan's eyes, and there's a small soft smile in the corner of his lips, and Ajay keeps stealing stealthy glances at him throughout the whole dinner, and he knows Pagan does just the same, and it's thrilling, and it ends the moment their eyes lock, always unexpected and always waited for, and Ajay is ready to swear his heart stops each time. Then of one them blinks, and the moment breaks, and Pagan leaves, mumbling his thanks for the company and brushing his hand against Ajay's shoulder.

So, are these dates? Sure, Pagan dines with a number of people, it's a part of the job, but he sure doesn't meet with other people just to be silent for the whole time, right? And he doesn't import the things his guests love to spoil them, especially if he would never choose it for himself (it's not Ajay's fault he loves asparagus in any form and Pagan hates it, okay?), no, he makes them eat what _he_ wants, it's just another outlet for his flamboyance. Does that make all those dinners and night things dates? It surely makes Ajay _special_. A date — not necessarily. 

Also there're walks and hikes they take. Not straight from the residence, mind you, Pagan's helicopter brings them over quite a long distance first. Except for that time when Pagan dragged him out of bed in an ungodly hour so they could watch a sunrise from a mountain (a very specific one, but Ajay has no idea where it is ‘cause he has slept all the way to it), Ajay always enjoys the view from the windows. Or even from the open door, cause fuck safety. Well, actually, not fuck safety, cause Pagan makes him put on some sort of protective belt so there would be no chance of Ajay falling out... _Anyway_. So, walks. Through the soft shadows of foliage above them, with high grass tickling Ajay's calves if he wears shorts, and — talking about important things.

Something about the dim light of the sun and remnants of the fog and cold barely sweet tea they drink makes Pagan talk. About his past, about his family, about what he wanted and what he got and what he didn't, about lshwari – her jokes and her anger and her calloused hands and gentle heart, about Lakshmana – her clever eyes and fast hands and how deeply she was loved by both of her parents. About a future for Kyrat, a _good_ future. The only thing Pagan doesn't talk about is Ajay. Oh, no, he talks plenty about Ajay's adventures with the Golden Path, or his disgusting love for diluting kompot with water at least fifty to fifty until it tastes like slightly sweetened water with weird aftertaste ( _'It's not a syrup, for fuck's sake, boy, you're supposed to drink it as it is!'_ ), or how Ajay should consider getting some traditional clothes tailored for him or at least a suit. Innocent stuff. Pagan doesn't talk about their future together or how they're gravitating towards each other or how sometimes his palm _might_ linger a little longer on the small of Ajay’s spine. 

Are _these_ dates? It's something Ajay is sure Pagan does only with him. He can't imagine Pagan waking up an ambassador from some minor country at three in the morning to show him the views of Kyrat. He might wake someone at three in the morning to kick them out of the country, though, and there is that. So, yet again, it makes Ajay special, it doesn't make him a prospective lover. 

Being special isn't that bad. It's actually rather wonderful. Amazing, really. It's just that Ajay is greedy and wants more from Pagan. 

Not that Pagan doesn't give him enough. Because — and this is another one of those irritatingly ambiguous things — he gives Ajay a lot of gifts. Or does it seem a lot because Ajay is not really used to receiving? Or is it that Pagan doesn't even think of them as gifts? He just casually gives Ajay a new iPod after Ajay's old MP3 player dies from falling down the mountain slope, or a nice pair of fingerless gloves that look hella stylish, and then another pair of gloves but this time wool ones for when Ajay goes to the mountains, or just goes up to Ajay lounging on his couch and pours down dozens of little hair bands on Ajay's lap. The last one is actually Ajay's favourite, 'cause his hair has been getting irritatingly long and he's been caught up in... _everything_ so much he didn't really have time to decide on whether to cut it or style it. Turns out, little ponytail just above the nape really does suit him, along with the unruly fringe. The first time Ajay shows up for breakfast with a new hairstyle Pagan studies him with such intent in his eyes it's equal parts intimidating and amusing. 

Okay, these are not gifts, it's just— stuff. Things. Trinkets. Useful and nice and Ajay is really thankful, but they don't carry a lot of meaning. It's just stuff he can buy anywhere in Kyrat or have ordered from abroad. No, the real gifts Pagan Min gives him are things that Pagan Min doesn't even realise he is giving. Pagan surely doesn't think much about falling asleep on Ajay's shoulder during a film or about agreeing to watch the said film in the first place, even though it's boring and Pagan doesn't agree for _boring_ voluntarily. Except... For Ajay? He does. Or when there's some sort of crisis down the South and it leads to one of the important kingly decisions every king has to make? Pagan always, _always_ talks to Ajay, asks his opinion, explains things and — when it calls for it — explains himself. And he keeps his promise not to kill Sabal and Amita and Bhadra. He doesn't put up with Ajay's naivety and doesn't do much to placate him, Gods forbid, but he makes it clear that Ajay's opinions mean a lot. 

Does that colour their relationship romantic? Hell if Ajay knows.

Ajay looks at his imaginary chart thing and feels the pain gathering up at his temples. Yet again he's at an impasse. Maybe everything Pagan does would sum up for someone as dating, but not for Ajay. He won't believe it until explicitly told. It may be dumb. But Ajay is kinda tired of taking chances and wants some clarity and stability at long last. 

"You wear a frown very well, dear, but I'd much prefer for you to smile."

Ajay jerks forward, almost stumbling down the ottoman. Shit. Now _that_ was a deep stroll in thoughts if he didn't even hear Pagan coming up.

"What?" Ajay says, quickly standing up and dusting his shirt. Pagan looks highly amused. His left eye is squinting a little under the warm-coloured but bright light of the dawning sun. 

"You know, smile?" Pagan says. "When your mouth goes kinda like this." He tugs the corners of his lips up with the tips of his index fingers. "Usually indicates happiness. Ever heard of it?"

Ajay thinks that he should answer something or at least school his features into something agreeable and stop looking like an idiot, but... Pagan looks so radiant in the soft peach light of the sun, in his new vest — pink-striped of course — and crispy-white shirt with rolled up sleeves, and he is cocking his head to the left looking all coy, and Ajay is just—

"Hello? Earth to Ajay?" Pagan tries again. "Come on, smile for me? Or aren't you happy enough, hm? Is it that, dear? Are you ha—"

"Yes." 

That stops Pagan right there. His own cocky smile fades until there's just a hint of it, and confusion makes Pagan's eyebrows bend. His lips part slightly, like he wants to say something, but decides not to, waiting for Ajay to talk instead. 

"Yes," Ajay says, repeats, with more force, almost with a challenge, "yes, I _am_ happy here." 

"Ajay, you—"

"When l just came to this country," Ajay interrupts again, and honestly, who else could get away with _interrupting_ Pagan Min, "I was sure I would leave just in a couple of days. Ashes put in place, some dumb tourist photo made, at my stupid work again the next week. And then shit hit the fan, and I was with Golden Path, and it felt so _endless_ , like I would never leave this country, would never go home, would never be not at war, and it made me feel like shit. And now I know for certain that I will never leave this country,” Ajay pauses, tries to read the strange expression on Pagan's face, but all he sees that Pagan is the one who is _not happy_ now, "but it's _good_. Because leaving Kyrat would mean leaving you, and I would never leave you." Pagan takes a sharp intake of breath. "Do you get it?''

It's all or nothing now, Ajay thinks somewhat numbly, as Pagan steps closer and lays his hands on Ajay's forearms, glides his palms up, to the shoulders, then gently wraps them around Ajay’s neck. They’re almost the same height, but it's the first time they stay this close, and Ajay realises he has a good inch on Pagan, and this ridiculously small detail makes him warm all over, and he wants to tell Pagan about it, and he—

Is being kissed. 

The softest of kisses, a brush of slightly parted lips against his, a silent question. 

Pagan draws back a little, looks into Ajay's eyes. He waits, as always, for Ajay to choose, to decide for himself, no pressure at all, not anymore, not for a long time. Ajay gives himself a second to admire Pagan's eyelashes for a hundred time, says: 

"I am happy." 

And leans in to kiss Pagan properly. 

The first kiss was a question. This one is an answer. Is a confession. Is a decision. Pagan's kiss is worshipping, and never deters from being slow and thorough and gentle, and Ajay doesn't even know whether to be surprised about it or not. He weaves his hands around Pagan's waist, and this, all this feels just so—

Right. The way their bodies flush with each other, how he can feel scars through the thin fabric of Pagan's shirt, how Pagan not so gently tugs at his hair and how the hell does he even know Ajay loves it a little rough, and—

Truth to be told, Ajay doesn't care about anything but Pagan in his arms at this moment.

He doesn't even care if those dinners and outings were dates or not.

He can have all the dates he wants with Pagan now, can he not?

He also can kiss Pagan whenever he likes and doesn't have to go away to his own bed to sleep alone, and he damn well can hold Pagan's hand from now on when they hike up a hill to have an impromptu picnic. 

They part, and Pagan lays his cheek on Ajay's shoulders, and Ajay can’t see his face like that, but he is pretty sure Pagan's eyes are closed to avoid looking at the sun.

"I’m happy too." 

And there's nothing more to say.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this was my little journey to study Pagan and Ajay. I feel like they're very complicated characters, and I love them both very much. This work operates on the very simpictic interpretations, but my next work delves a little deeper.
> 
> Because YES, I have another 6-8k work on them coming up, and 2-3k about Sabal/Ajay (NO of that unhealthy manipulative crap. Just boys being nice and communicating). So... stay tuned :D
> 
> Also, NOT BETA-ED! If you're ready to lend a hand, please contact me via Tumblr, http://imyaslavie.tumblr.com/
> 
> Cheers!
> 
> ALSO  
> yeah, now I see that it turns too much into fluff :DD


End file.
